SUNSWEPT

Chapter 3 "Memories"

Kip stepped into the pedestrian flow and adopted a new disguise like a capsuleer would a new ship skin. This was a whole different world than the tubes and conduits, or even the midlevel pads where stealth was his ally. Here his disheveled cloths and unkepmt nature would blend in as long as he just looked and felt like he belonged. Thousands of people sifted in and out of lifts, buildings, and bazars in the cultural promenade that lay between six of the tallest buildings in New Hyjn. With so many people and everyone so very busy it was also a haven for the indigent and poor. Any take here wouldn't produce his cost in fares, but if he could land one of the busier cabs, it could make up for the low quality of passenger with quantity. The only tricky part was that there would be competition. Almost immediately he noticed Celery almost blatantly begging outside one stall. How she hoped to get a take so overtly he had no idea but he stayed clear of her all the same.

Looking
around he noticed a cab pulling up just to his right. It looked in good
repair; sounded good. The company wasn't too big and would certainly
send this cab back to the promenade or some other major cultural center.
He was just surveying a way to get closer when he noticed it. No good.
The cab's chip reader had been encased with a simple black plasteck
cover on which a large green arrow pointing up signaled to passengers
that they should pay inside; and signaling to KipTop that he'd get no
take there.

He
continued to walk along the paths, aiming for one specific building
with purpose but with no real care other than it had been the most
directly opposing building to the lift he had taken to reach to
promenade. He hadn't returned to this particular location in some time;
not since he'd taken a spill about a year back. He had, at the time, recently joined
the Boss's team. Not yet as skilled in stealth or city geography, he'd
come to this spot based on a memory. His mom had once taken him shopping
in the stores within the building somewhere to his left. It was a good
memory but his return trip without her had proved nearly fatal. He'd
been walking along, still wearing the same nice jacket that his mom had
gotten him, when out of nowhere he'd been shoved to the ground. When
he'd rolled over to face his attacker, the older girl yanked him up and
out of the flow of traffic into a side alley. Once separated from the
teeming streets, he had nowhere to run. Brandishing a self-made shiv,
she'd taken his jacket and along with it, the 'disc he'd had stashed in
the lining. Even as he extended the jacket out to her he'd realized what
was inside but before he could pull the jacket back she'd shoved the
shive at him forcing him to jump back. This had left her all the time
she needed to grab his jacket, shove it half into her bag, then advance
toward him.

The
next part was one had played over and over in his mind. A man had seen
him get attacked and he shouted now from a place Kip couldn't see. The
girl ran off leaving a cold Kip to look up helplessly at his would-be
savior. There was no way the man could know that Kip was already all but
dead for having lost the 'disc, nor was there a way he could tell him.

Kip
noticed yet another likely take moving in on the other side of the
promenade, but it was too far for him to get to quickly enough; another
miss. He kept up his pace. He'd soon be in the building and need to find
some out-of-the-way nook in which to double back. His idle mind
returned to the man who'd 'rescued' him. He'd not been a well off man,
and took the first chance he got to unload Kip on the nearest official
he could. Kip hadn't been too keen on finding himself a prisoner in yet
another home; so many kids with only drone attendants to watch over
them. He wasn't going back there. While the man was talking to the
officer Kip quickly rolled off the back of the bench into one of the
many bushes and from there found the only place he could see to hide...
an exposed power access panel.

After
one pass of the promenade, he knew he wasn't going to get many more.
Ducking into a lift he took it up one level. He got a few looks as he
emerged into a rather nice shopping mall but he played it off as
surprise and confusion as he quickly turned, seeing that the first lift
doors had closed, he summoned another lift, waited, then stepped into
the new one, taking it back down. This time, as he emerged onto the
promenade once more he paused to survey the area. He'd have to be more
direct or he'd run out of time to get to the mid-levels for his second
take.

He
spotted an averagely nice man carrying a bit more than he could handle.
That man would need a cab and with so much to carry he'd have to load
some of it into the cargo compartment, leaving Kip to slip the disk into
the door as he passed. He picked a path that would lead him along the
landing zone and started off.

Moments
later he began to wonder if he had picked up some of Coal's luck as a
decent looking cab, with an external reader, came to land to his right
and in front of the encumbered man just as Kip was about three meters
from the man. He increased his pace only slightly as the rear
compartments on the cab opened and the man moved around to the back. The
unsealed 'disc slipped from his sleeve to his fingers as he passed the
front guards of the cab and with the movement of placing his hand into
his pocket he let the 'disc slip into the reader. There was an odd
movement to his left but he didn't have the liberty to look yet. He had
one eye on the man, now hunched over the rear of the cab and the other
forward to avoid running into anyone. He was just about to step past the
unaware passenger and his crates when the pain suddenly shot through
his left side. Someone whispered "Mine!" from behind him as he
instinctively lurched to the right away from the sudden and sharp
intrusion. This brought him hard against the cab in a solid thump which
did several things simultaneously. First, a soft proximity alarm meant
to prevent anyone from damaging it while parked emanated from the cab.
Second, the man looked up suddenly, searching for and finding the source
of the impact on his ride. Third, every officer present in the
promenade received an alert to their comm unit: 'Possible Assault of
Property'. Finally, everyone in the direct vicinity of the crates turned
to see what happened, allowing Kip's assailant to nab several items
from the crate and take the requisite few steps before slipping the
goods into a coat and turning to gawk along with every other person
nearby.

Kip,
however, had no time to look or even notice his assailants' victory
smirk. He had to move. Had to run. With the memory still fresh in his
mind he made his choice. There would be no blending in now and he
couldn't stop to discover the source of the blood that now dripped from
his hand. He'd be tracked as long as he bled but that came next. He
bolted. Leaping a bench and a bush he came to an all too familiar power
access hatch. Locked. With bloodied fingers he reached for his scar and
deftly extracted the nanostraw. Placing one end at a seam in the
mechanism he bent the straw slightly. A pause. The lock deactivated. He
swung the panel opened and leapt inside. Already he could hear someone
rounding the corner of the building as his feet tucked into the shaft
then in a solid jump sprang him several meters to catch the next cross
tunnel up. There was no retrieving the spent nanites for recharge so he
didn't even try. He'd buy more, if he lived.

Too
many minutes later Kip sat panting as he tugged once more at the strips
of what had been his sleeves. The emergency bandage along with his lack
of movement had stopped the bleeding for now. It wasn't a deep wound,
but enough to seriously hamper any chance of a second take for the day.
He needed medpaste and soon. But it had to be almost mid-day and his
need to make good on the Boss's trust prevailed. After all,
disappointing the Boss was more dangerous than almost any wound. After
the take, that's when he could visit one of his many caches to retrieve
the paste. He'd have to manage.

*******

Meyan
ran her hand through the mist and once more turned the temperature even
further down. The cooler water just felt... well... more comfortable
these days. Her time in the refreshing unit was quickly becoming a
highlight of each day. Passing her hand once more through the mist she
smiled, discarded the last of her clothes into the chute, and stepped in
through the forcefield. She tilted her head back, letting her
neck-length white hair tickle at her shoulder blades, her hands palm up
and arms spread she took in the cool bliss. She clearly had been running
a bit warmer since her success. And while the green skin was becoming
more and more of something she tried to cover up, she was finding other
benefits. The dry skin rashes that had plagued her since childhood were
all but gone now and any current dryness that seems to occur as well as
the now persistent itching was easily abated with direct exposure to
water such as the wonderful refresher she was enjoying now. Could the
itching be a reaction inherent in the transformation? Or was it related
to her childhood condition? Whatever; questions for another time,
either way, here and now, the refresher felt good.

An
audible ping from her com unit interrupted her basking and she winced
as she remembered that her rent had come due yet again. She'd already
had to take a loan to cover the past week's rent; this week's would dry
up every last cent from that loan. She should have gotten a job by now. Drawn from her enjoyment she set about rubbing herself with a lather.
She'd passed a small restaurant just the other day which had been
advertising for wait staff. It had gotten her through her pre-graduate
years, but it wasn't what she was really good at. Why all the work if
only to fall back to catering on someone else. And what might they say
about her skin? She lifted a hand to watch the lather begin to slide
slowly down her palm as the mist did it's work. Her grey-green tinted
but otherwise normal hand transitioned slowly to full green as the suds
journeyed over her wrist and onto her slim forearm. She rotated her hand
and mused over one of the last places on her body to transition; only
her face remained. There was a mirror set into the wall; fed by a charge
it repelled all condensation. She turned to look, once more lifting her
chin to see everything south of her ears picking up the tell-tale grey
hue that heralded the oncoming green. Not long now and there would be no
hiding it. What had she done? Why had she done? She leaned against the
walls of the refresher and let the mist slowly take the suds from her.
She looked down as more and more green began to show from under the
lather. The image was like watching the whole transformation in high
speed. She was struck by how quickly it had happened. What had at first
been merely a thought experiment and then a challenge, had opened wide
the day she had discovered that Trulian Fungus used something much like
chlorophyll but different in some very interesting ways. Whereas
chlorophyll could turn sunlight into energy, the Trulian version was
only half as efficient but somehow integrated with a system resembling
something akin to a mammalian circulatory system. Even more fascinating,
the Trulian Fungus' structure was based on a nitrogen nucleobase. While
this information provided a unique picture into the limits of plant and
animal, the fungus was still a plant. But, it had planted a firm and
persistent idea in young Meyan; what if?

A
second ping surprised her as she started suddenly. The landlord
wouldn't send her two reminders within so little time... would he? She
began whisking the remaining suds off with the soft, curved blade
requisite in any refresher before stepping back through the forcefield
which kept all free H2O within. She stepped, completely dry but with
still damp hair, over to her communicator.

As
expected, one of the pings had been from Starlight Properties; clearly
an appeal for payment. But it was actually the first ping which now had
her so unsure; Trinity Cybernetics. An advertisement maybe? She selected
the file, her mind musing over the humor of directly advertising
cybernetics to someone too poor to own one with which to receive the
message....

Image

She
held the pad and stared at the short note. Informal was right, this
must have been written by the Director himself; how small was this lab?
No director of anything larger than a closet had time for such as a
lowly biologist. She read it again, then once more before it set in and
her heart seemed to catch. A Job! Well, an interview... but A JOB! She
quickly flipped from her inbox to her personal schedule, the rent
completely forgotten. Yep, there it was, pulsing with the glow of a new
addition, two days out, 'Interview with Solu Terona, 15:00, Sunny-side
Up'. At least she knew where she was going... He'd said a friend of his
owned it?

She
set down the pad and grabbed up another. She started scouring the
network and sure enough, a page outlying Trinity Cybernetics; no
address... 'Implantation, Augmentation, Communication' A direct motto if
esoteric. Hmm, no staff pictures... no staff listed for that matter,
only this Solu Terona. She stared at the page for a moment, picked up
the other data pad again and reread the note. Then it struck her; 'A
division of VaskTech', the Lab that wasn't a lab! Damn, what was his
name... blond one... Oh she hadn't even asked! Well, she wasn't about to
go back and ask him, with how busy he had been, besides, this was a
different division wasn't it? She called up a directory of local
inhabitants and started looking for any record of Solu.

Almost
an hour later, and well into the night, she was forced to admit that
further searching was moot. She'd found no record of Solu in any of her
filtered searches. She'd tried restricting to researchers, medical
professionals; she even went through the faculties of several of
Origin's most prominent universities and nothing. She wasn't thinking
straight. She rubbed her eyes and found that she wasn't even seeing
straight. Well, an interview was an interview and she'd just have to try
again tomorrow. With her heart still pounding, and unsure how much
sleep she was even going to get she absently itched at her side as she
numbly crawled into bed. A job...

*******

Only
slightly less than a kilometer beneath, and a world away from the
Kinzer Cultural Promenade KipTop knew he was taking big risks. His
journey through the towers had been faster than he had liked and had
reopened his wound twice; requiring yet more precious time to bandage.
His abysmal luck had only worsened over the past hour as private car
after private car came to land at the luxurious casino pad that he had
chosen. It had been the closest, highest value target he could think of
for his second take but he had apparently overestimated the amount of
cabs that might frequent Kara's Palace so early in the day. He'd scouted
the target months ago and there had been plenty of opportunity then. He
didn't know who Kara was, but he had overheard enough to know that the
casino was part of a whole chain of Bet-Your-Lucks that stretched all
the way to Jita, owned by some scary capsuleer that everyone hated or
loved, depending on which everyone you talked to.

As
with his take yesterday, this one was starting to go on a bit longer
than he'd liked. He had a rather secure spot just around the corner of
the building entrance; an air exchange vent gave him enough cover and
just the right view of incoming cabs. He'd spent his wait trying to stay
warm despite the loss of blood and trying to decide how he was going to
make the take when it did land. The angle was all wrong for trying to
slip under the cab as he had the day previous; then he'd been hiding
opposite the loading door. Besides, in his current condition he was more
likely to slip directly into the repulsive wash than he was to miss it.
No, he needed a new tactic for today. He'd always relied on stealth and
physicality but how had the others, the scrawny ones gotten their
takes. In all his time he'd never payed attention; his way was obviously
better.

Wrapping
himself tighter with only his arms for a blanket he blessed the warm
air cycling out of the vent, even if it did smell of stale booze. So
cold. He'd really only felt cold like this once before; a different cold
perhaps, but just as sapping. His thoughts of the take drifted
momentarily from his mind as he again remembered a time even worse than
this one.

Losing
a silly little thing like a SkimDisc couldn't compare to getting
stabbed right? That's what he had thought when, after narrowly escaping
the girl in the promenade, he'd returned to The Boss with proverbial
'hat in hand'. The Boss had given him only six words and sent him away
from the Spot; "No take, no isk, no Disc." It had taken him the better
part of that morning to puzzle out what to do next, a morning he spent
comfortably holed up in his only cashe. He'd spent his previous isk
wisely and had a small stash of food and meds to hold him over, but that
would only buy him time. He needed a Disc to get a take; or barring
that, isk to buy a new Disc from the Boss.

Days
spent sifting the markets for loose isk chips to swipe and hiding away
in his nest stretched into cold weeks as his stockpile dried up. About
two months into his punishment he'd discovered just what 'cold' meant.
Starving, jacketless, and utterly unsuccessful at finding more than a
few chips to swipe, KipTop found himself begging beside a desolate fence
masquerading as a pawning booth. He'd been slowly rubbing his implant
scar when the shadiest woman he'd ever seen stepped out of the booth and
looked down at him. Her face seemed to curl into something that should
have been a smile but instead sent a strange sort of fear tingling
through his body. Cold, hungry, and too defeated to move, he could only
stare as she spoke. "What'cha got there kid? 'Tis one o' them trackers?"
He never really knew what the hard thing under his scar was, just that
it had been so important to his mother. "Ya know..." She glanced back
into the pawning booth with a disgusted look then back at Kip as she
extracted something small and cylindrical from her sleeve. "You'll not
be getting' much for it, but I can do ya a hole of a lot better 'an
that. Think of what you could do wit' one of these." She offered the
tube, more of a straw really towards Kip, who had no idea what it was.
He reached for it without saying a word but the woman snatched it back
and with merely a flip of her fingers it seemed to disappear. "Eh' uh.
It'd be a trade or nut'in puddles. It's a nanostraw, you can open any
lock your heart desires." KipTop couldn't respond. It was an incredibly
wild claim but if it were true... "Isk, food, you could even unlock an
egghead's ship wit' it. An' all you have to give me is that little pill
ya got in 'der." Her finger extended to point directly at the scar in
Kip's side.

Starvation
is a funny thing, something that meant so much to his mother, had meant
so much to him suddenly became near worthless when put beside the mere
prospect of food, let alone next to the chance at survival. His hand
shot out, open and ready to shake as the look on his face became a
resolve so keen that everything else seemed in that instance as mist to a
hungry wind. With on hand the woman clasped his hand even as she hauled
him to his feet and produced a slim blade with her other. "Don't move
puddles. This is gonna hurt." She quickly and deftly slit the very top
of his scar then used the tip of the knife and her thumb to push-prod
the small bean-like tracker from its home. There was only a little blood
as the tracker seemed to have been implanted along with an
immuno-sleeve to house it. Into that sleeve the woman then deposited
Kip's salvation; a small cyan tube.

It
was as he sat, remembering a colder time, rolling the very same cyan
tube between his numbing fingers to keep them moving, that he suddenly
remembered Celery. She was begging. She didn't need to beg unless she
hadn't gotten a take... But she'd been smiling after talking with The
Boss, he'd caught that much during his moments talking to Coal. So why
had she been begging the patrons of a shop stand; a shop stand which
sold items too large for her to hide anyway. Hole, those packages would
be barely small enough for her to carry... Like a repulsive thrust it
hit him. She wasn't begging for isk. She was offering to carry the
patron's package for isk! The customer would walk her and those packages
right up to the damn cab! Kip was suddenly in the wrong place with the
wrong clientele for that plan but he was also out of options. He hadn't
enough time or energy to relocate so he decided to just make do. He
slipped the nanotube back into its home, quickly smoothed out his now
sleeveless shirt over the bandage as best he could and stepped out from
the vent just as another gust of air rumbled down the duct signaling the
doors opening. Wasn't it nice when your hiding spot also told you when
someone was coming?

Sure
enough, as he rounded the corner a cleanly dressed couple, clearly well
into their drink, stepped up to the pad. He summoned every bit of
courage he had and went for it; "Sir, Ma'am, may I carry your bags to
the car for you?"

The
couple paused, confused, and looked back at the stalwart gentleman
following them, already carrying their luggage. Kip's heart sank. "I'm
sorry dear, but I think we are quite fine for now." The man's tone was
polite and demeaning all at once as an honest to Bob cab, the first he'd
seen on this pad all day, came to land.

He
choked back every ounce of pride and dignity, thought of the cold that
was threatening to drag him under and gave it everything; "Please ma'am.
I just need to earn enough for a gram of medpaste." He leaned into the
word 'earn' hoping it would set him apart from just some begging kid and
for good measure he placed his hand to his side to draw attention to
the blood on his shirt. It was a huge risk but he was all in now.

"Oh,
the poor thing, Arnst, we can at least take him to a med center can't
we? It's the least we can do." Uh oh..."Just look at him." Arnst
uncoupled his arm from hers and tossed them with exasperation into the
air which apparently signaled to her his acceptance. But a trip to a
public medcenter was not what Kip had bet on.

"Oh, please ma'am, I just want to carry your bags..."

"Nonsense!
You come right over here and hop in." Arnst had already gone around to
the other side of the car and was in the process of stepping into the
cab. If he went he'd be trapped between them; his prisoner escort to the
end of his freedom. There was only one chance left to him but he'd have
to really sell it. He started slowly toward the open hatch, bringing
his hands together as though nervous and passed the disc to couch
between the fingers of his left hand. "That's it; you come right along
with us then."

As
he reached the open hatch he paused, grabbing hold of the latch as
though suddenly unsure of going inside. "I... I can't" The woman seemed
confused but she started gently toward him as though to coax him the
rest of the way in. He made his move. His left hand which had taken hold
of the latch slipped the few centimeters to the isk reader and
deposited the disc. Pushing as much false fear as he could muster into
his face he shouted "No!" and half sprinted half limped, for the nearest
exit, a panel he'd left exposed hours earlier.

The
woman stood back up from the crouching position she'd begun to take and
just stared for a solid minute. What on Renaissance could possess such a
young thing with such fear of cabs? Gathering her wits she shook her
head, and in response to her very grumpy fiancé, who she'd decided had
had too much to drink yet again, she slipped into the cab and closed the
hatch. Perhaps she could convince Arnst to let her do some shopping on
the Promenade before they went home, what was the use in winnings if not
to be spent? Her thoughts turned to dresses as the cab lifted from
Kara's and flew off into the early afternoon.

*******

Stepping
up to the entry to the bar Meyan shifted the data pads lying against
her chest, and awkwardly leaning back to do so, strained to see the
timepiece on the neocom at her wrist. 10 minutes late. Cursing to
herself and stepping through the doorway she looked up to find only two
others in the room. The figure who was seated in the booth was mildly
obscured by a decorative partition while the figure at the bar wore a
dark jacket and looked so completely out of place in a capsuleer's
venue. Meyan was just about to look back to the seated figure when the
man at the bar nodded in her direction. Unaware that the other figure
had also been in the same direction of that nod, she made up her mind,
mustered her courage, and stepped up to the man.

"Dr. Terona?" She shifted her datapad stack to her left arm and extended her gloved right hand.

For
a brief moment the stranger's face was a mask of perplexed amusement
before softening into a smile before moving slowly side to side. Without
saying a word he looked up and over her shoulder to the woman, now more
visible in the booths. To Meyan's sudden horror the women, clearly
wearing a lab coat, tried and failed to stifle a giggle.

Her
heart tried to dive beneath her stomach and her face took on an almost
red-purple hue as Dr. Terona smiled apologetically and motioned Meyan
over to join her. Remembering the man, she turned and whispered
something approximating "Sorry", almost afraid that he might also laugh
at her.

"Oh,
that's alright" He gave her an understanding wink as she reached for
what was left of her courage and once more turned toward Dr. Terona.
Barely missing another table as she turned, Meyan nearly stumbled her
first few steps across the room.

Solu
Terona, decidedly female, took a sip from her martini before raising to
her full 173cm, smiling, and extending her mechanical arm to the
flustered biologist. "You would be Meyan then?" The relaxed nature of
her pose seemed to soften Meyan's trepidation as much as Solu's easy
smile. "I'm Dr. Terona although I would much prefer Solu if it's all the
same to you."

"Solu
would be fine." Meyan nerves were running at an all-time high as she
took hold of Solu's hand. Gaining some control she looked to the booth,
"Should I sit? ..Oh, and yes, Meyan!"

Solu
resumed her seat and motioned to the booth across from her, inviting
Meyan to sit. Managing a sudden and blessed grace, Meyan slipped into
the booth without further embarrassment and placed her datapads on the
counter. Looking up she noticed the distinct lack of datapads opposing
her. Like a bulkhead to the face she realized that someone specializing
in implants would have no need of them. "Thank you for the chance to
talk with you."

Solu
adjusted a strand of her short hair; white with black highlights. "The
pleasure is all mine. So, as nina explained to me, you're a...
Xenobiologist correct?"

"Um, well, yes... Xenobiology is my specialty, but I have experience in less obscure fields of biology."

"Any
previous experience with implantation of augmentation before?" Solu
took another sip of her martini, her eyes still fixed on Meyan.

Meyan
looked down at her gloved hands, reflexively rubbing one upon the
other. "Perhaps not directly with implants themselves, but biological
augmentation yes, and certainly I've worked with the biological end of
implantation." Regaining some composure, she handed one of her datapads
across to Solu. "I worked with Dr. Ipith during my post-doc in CAS. He
was doing research on increasing neural uptake for some of the more
extensive implants that are starting to hit the market."

Solu
accepted the data pad and skimmed the contents at a higher than normal
rate. "Why Origin then?" Meyan seemed confused so she continued. "With
that kind of work experience any one of the major capsuleer schools
would want you on board working on the Jovian Wetgrave problem."

Meyan
once more looked down at her gloves. "I... well, let's say that my
aspirations seemed to fit better with an open mind." Something about
Solu's relaxed manner lent her the added courage to suddenly remove one
of the gloves to reveal the distinct grey-green hue starting at her
fingertips and gradually darkening toward her sleeve.

Taking
a sudden increased interest, the doctor sat up, her eyes focusing on
Meyan's wrist. A smile started to form on her lips. "Yes they would...
Chlorophyll Injections?"

This
was not the reaction Meyan had expected. Shaking her head, she replied
with an increasing spirit, " Tried it, the chlorophyll never stood up to
the t-cells... Trulian moss however, is a bit less threatening it
seems." A conspiratorial smile began to spread across her face until she
was leaning forward a bit, the smile turning to a prideful grin.

"So
it's self-sustaining then?" Her mechanical fingers started tapping
excitedly on the table as her own lips joined in a wide contagious grin.

"Well,
right now it is self perpetuating, if that is what you mean." Meyan
shrugged as she felt a little odd, suddenly conscious of how exposed her
hand was. She resisted the urge to look around at who might see. "I,
well, I don't know how green it will get... but it should start tapering
off soon, the transition that is." Looking up, she realized that Solu
was not only still grinning, but also genuinely interested. It was an
oddly freeing moment for her, the first in a long while. She hadn't
expected such a warm reception to her condition.

Solu's grin passed to one of reassurance as she leaned back. "Either way, damned impressive..."

The
pad just to the left of Meyan's hand, the one she had given Solu only
moments ago, lit up to signal the completion of a download. She turned
her eyes to see, in title case across the top; 'Contract - Terona
Project - VaskTech - Core Staff'. "Wait, you're...." As though it would
disappear if she waited, Meyan scooped the contract into her hands and
started reading it with zeal.

"I'll
give you a few days to look over the comp. and benefits, but yeah. You
have a spot on my team if you want it, I was certainly stressing a bit
over the immunosuppression requirements the things we were planning
would have."

Meyan looked up. "Immunosuppression requirements? I would need them?"

Solu
laughed softly. "No, no! But in implant users, the worry is that the
user's body won't start rejecting implants, I wouldn't require anything
from you in a medical sense, although I would push you to take on a PDA
implant."

Half
listening and half still looking at the contract Meyan nodded.
"PDA?..." She glanced up, then to her typical stack of datapads. "Oh.."
Slightly embarrassed, she saved the contract and set it on top of the
offending stack. "I suppose that would be a lot easier." She sighed.
"It's just with loans and all, I barely had the funds to get what I
needed for..." She trailed off as she looked at her still exposed hand,
then, slowly, looked up at her soon to be new employer. "Thank you"
Meyan smiled as she extended her still uncovered hand. "I'm... actually
looking forward to this, a lot now."

Reaching
across with her own mechanical arm, servos whirring, Solu shook Meyan's
hand once more. "From one augment to another, you really shouldn't be
worried in Origin, you must have seen the networkers or multiples down
planetside." At the same time, the gentleman who had been sitting
quietly at the bar the entire time decided to stand and make his way to
the door.

"I.."
Meyan smiled deprecatingly. "...yeah, I suppose I should have." She
noticed the gentleman nodding to Solu and winced slightly before
whispering to Solu; "I hope I didn't offend him. I can't seem to place
anyone right in this bar."

"Who,
Che?" Solu nodded back to the man. "To be honest, I'm not too good with
names and faces either. Any questions for me though on the contract?"

Meyan
shook her head and released Solu's hand. "Not as yet, though I may have
some after reading through the contract in earnest." She reached for
her datapads and stifled a chuckle as she realized that her days of
lugging the damned things around may be shorter than she thought. "I'll
read through it and get back to you. Would two days from now be too
long?"

"That
would be fine, my neocom code and e-mail are at the bottom of the
contract, feel free to send me a message if you have any questions or
want to reschedule."

"Reschedule?
Oh, no, that shouldn't be needed." Meyan stood from the booth, still a
little stiff from sitting so long. "Again, thank you!" Starting to
extend her hand again, she realized that it is holding the datapads and
was forced to swiftly retract it. The result of the maneuver being that
the pades rattled and almost fell. "Oh, I.. well... I'd better get
going. I'm sure you are quite busy and well, I've got some reading to
do." She ended abruptly with a blush as though cutting herself off.

Solu
took the opportunity to smile once more at Meyan and she finished her
martini. "I'll see you in a few days then Meyan. It was nice meeting you
as well."

"And
you!" Meyan turned and paused to be sure she had everything before
starting for the door. She walked a full six steps down the corridor
before uncharacteristically tossing her head back and cheering at the
empty passageway.

*******

A
person didn't survive long in the shafts and dark corners of the city
if they didn't understand priorities; and a kid less so. The pain was
becoming unbearable but it was the numbing exhaustion that worried Kip
now as he was nearing his closest cache. Possible options jumped through
his mind, almost in a sort of strobed sequence but only one option was
really doable. His cache was only a few duct segments ahead but he took
the next left and came to an exhaust vent for some local restaurant,
Matari by the smell of it. This same vent was linked to one that opened
to the waste chute for the kitchen and with practiced but weak fingers
Kip pulled out his nanostraw and opened the freshlock that kept vermin
from reaching the scraps as they were sent on their journey to the
composter far below. He removed his shirt and rigged it across the
channel then waited.

During
the few minutes it would take for his makeshift net to fill, he relaxed
back against the side of the duct as comfortably as he could, letting
his mind return again to the alley beside the pawning booth: He had his
hands on some new tube; the woman who'd traded it to him was long gone
moments after with only a cackle in parting. Locks had never been of
concern to him but just maybe he could sell it for enough to buy a new
Disc! He could never clearly remember the few steps it had taken to get
into the fence's shop but as he proudly set his new treasure on the
counter with a resounding 'how much?' the fence's face would haunt him.

"Mate,
i'm sorry, i really am. But I couldn't buy it from her and I still
can't buy it from you." Kip wilted. "Look, it's only got but a few
nanites left, so it aint worth much for that, but this one was used not
two days ago in a robbery, pretty high profile one too."

Kip pressed. "But ya just gotta take it, I... I need the isk and it's all I've got."

"It's
dirty" Kip snatched it back and began to rub it with his shirt. "No, I
mean it's hot..." Kips confusion continued as he clearly held the room
temperature device with his bare fingers. "Look, the officials will be
tracking it... and whoever has it."

As
the horror of just how bad of a trade he had just made set in, the
fence had clearly started to reconsider just what kind of situation the
kid was in. "Oh, look see. Yes, they can trace the device by the
programming that the tube leaves on the nanites. If it's all you have
then it's all you have." Hope? "I still can't buy it..." No hope...
"But, I'll tell ya what-" The fence started to circle around from behind
the desk as his brilliant mercantile mind tried to find some way both
to help the kid whom he'd honestly felt sorry for and profit from it at
the same time. He stepped to a cabinet and took out a small box in the
same cyan as the tube and stepped back over to squat beside Kip." "I'll
recharge it for ya free just this once. As long as you don't try to use
it on anything someone might miss, the officials won't care too much."

Kip
handed over the tube hesitantly and watched as it was quickly inserted
into a small hole within the box which vibrated and pinged. The fence
paused as he handed it back, just noticing the blood from Kip's scar.
"I'll even spot ya a drop of medpaste for the cut. Call it an
investment."

Medpaste and nanites. It wasn't much but Kip wasn't accustomed to charity. "Yeah, and what do I owe ya now?"

"Oh,
nothing... but when you start getting some isk again, an you will." Kip
had been about to disparage. "You just remember who can sell ya more
nanites and medpaste, an I'll sell em cheap too." He produced a tube of
the paste from within his pocket and squeezed a small bit onto his
finger, which he then held out towards the cut.

Not
wanting to believe his new luck, Kip lifted his shirt and rotated,
allowing the fence to smear the paste over the cut. Recognizing the
value of the scar, the fence also had the forethought to shift the
immunosleeve up so that it stuck out of the quickly sealing wound.

"You
keep that sleeve up, blocking the cut like that till tonight, and
you'll even have a nice safe place to hide your nanostraw." Kip
remembered those words as he, with his chance at redemption, turned and
walked in a daze of excitement from the booth.

The
shirt, spread as a net across the waste chute, had collected several
scraps, and only a few things wet enough to cause too much mess. KipTop
quickly retrieved it, purloined a few pieces which he consumed
ravenously, and wrapped the shirt around the remainder to save it for
later. With the sensation of food already starting to warm his belly,
shirtless, and still dizzy with pain and exhaustion he retraced his path
back to the ducts. Continuing he quickly found and unlocked the panel
which led from the ducts into one of those rare exceptions of unused
space within a tower where space was at such a premium.

Whether
it was the oddly shaped wall to one side which precluded a clean match
with any abutting wall, or the few biowaste pipes which passed through
the center of the space, the engineers had seen fit to leave roughly a
25 cubed feet hole in their plans. A hole into which Kip had stashed
isk, two changes of clothes, a few measly morsels of non-perishable
food, and above all a half-full tube of medpaste.

An
hour later Kip lay back against one of the pipes. The medpaste was well
into it's work on his side but he'd had to use most of what was left.
The last crumbs of his dinner had been brushed from his shirt which now
hung, well soiled, over the other waste pipe. He'd find somewhere to
wash it if it was worth saving, but most likely he'd just have to get a
new one.

The
prospect of spending the night in this particular cache didn't appeal
too much to him but his larger hidey-holes were just too far away and
his wound too freshly mended. Not for the first or last time he wished
that he could just go back to the Kinderhaus as usual but that just
wasn't an option either. Shortly after he'd been taken into the small
religious-minded orphanage, one of the other kids had taken ill from a
nasty cut on his leg. Already in the employ of The Boss, Kip had
sacrificed some of his hard-earned isk, and following a quick visit to
his friend the fence, produced just enough medpaste to save the young
boy. Rather than the hero's thanks he expected, however, Kip had
received a very stern look from Mistress Sdint. She'd assumed that it
had been stolen or otherwise ill-gotten and the disappointment in that
face had been enough for him to rethink ever coming back to the haus
with so much as the smell of medpaste on him. There were times, however,
when it was really needed, that medpaste would quietly appear in the
weekly donation packages which came from local charities. He was finally
starting to drift off as one last conscious thought lingered in his
head; if this was how days with two discs were always going to go, he
was almost unsure as to whether he'd want the second one tomorrow.
Almost.